


Forget Regret

by EdosianOrchids901



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, Garak considering his life choices, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Julian being sweet, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15438156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdosianOrchids901/pseuds/EdosianOrchids901
Summary: "Relax, Elim. Just relax. You know the pain will only get worse if you tense up.Focusing on my breathing, I tried to release the tightness in my muscles. But then a fresh wave slammed into my head and I clenched my fists on the sheets, trying not to cry out. The pounding built… built…And then abated for a moment, leaving me breathless, gasping, paralyzed. I could do nothing aside from lay in a huddle while I waited for it to worsen again."





	Forget Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Some self indulgent Garashir that I wrote while coping with my own migraine. Brought to you by vodka, self-pity, and hopes for a better future.

Pain.

Too much pain. 

I gritted my teeth, which only made it worse. Pounding agony all across my skull, sharper torture lancing into my right temple. 

Relax, Elim. Just relax. You know the pain will only get worse if you tense up. 

Focusing on my breathing, I tried to release the tightness in my muscles. But then a fresh wave slammed into my head and I clenched my fists on the sheets, trying not to cry out. The pounding built… built… 

And then abated for a moment, leaving me breathless, gasping, paralyzed. I could do nothing aside from lay in a huddle while I waited for it to worsen again. 

Add another to the list of countless occasions that I’d cursed my poor decision making. In looking for a salve for my suffering, I’d simply managed to cause permanent damage to myself. 

The new headaches had come just after the removal of my wire, striking with such crippling agony that I’d just assumed I was dying. Or dying again, rather. 

Julian, ever persistent, had tried so many medications for me that I’d lost track. Oh, they worked… for a time. And then, the drugs would lose their potency, and I’d be left without anything to counteract the pain. 

The migraines were less common now, to be fair. And technically, my current medication worked. But I hated the side effects that came with it – shakiness, grogginess, nightmares. It wasn’t as if I was lacking in nightmares, and the tradeoff of less pain for more horror rarely seemed worthwhile. 

If only I hadn’t found that I could use the implant to lessen my misery. If only I hadn’t activated it. If only I’d never left Cardassia in the first place! It seemed my entire life could be summed up in multiple iterations of “if only”. 

The pain intensified again, and I clawed at the mattress, trying and failing to choke back a cry. It escaped in small, strangled gasps, in whimpers, in hisses. 

Another moment’s respite and I slumped back down, pressing my face into the pillow and balling my hands into fists. Make it stop. Make it stop.

A hand ever so gently brushed across my hair, and I’d have bolted upright in surprise had I not been terrified of worsening the pain. “Elim?”

How had I missed him entering our quarters? And what was he doing here? He was supposed to be at work.

“Hello,” I managed to grit, unable to move in the slightest. 

“Hey.” The bed shifted slightly as Julian sat, and I winced. “What’s going on? You didn’t show up for lunch.”

I’d completely forgotten about lunch, despite the fact that we shared virtually every meal together. “Apologies.”

“I’m not worried about that, Garak. There’s nothing to apologize for, I’m just concerned about you.” He stroked my hair again and then lightly pressed his fingers to my temple. Even the minimal pressure hurt, and I hissed. “Sorry, love. Another migraine?”

“Something like that.” A massive blast of pain sent me into a tighter huddle, my body quivering from the tension as I clutched my head. 

“Easy, easy.” Julian laid his hand on my back, rubbing in a gentle, comforting fashion. “Easy, it’ll be okay.”

He grasped my hand, and I made a weak attempt to pull away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, you won’t. You can hold on as tight as you need to.”

Pain split my head in two and I cried out, my hand clenching on his. This did help – even if my physical agony was no less severe, at least I was no longer entirely wallowing in self pity. I wasn’t alone, and I was under the care of someone who loved me dearly. 

When the pain abated a bit again, I went limp, trembling, involuntary tears trickling down my cheeks. There wasn’t really a point in trying to mask the extent of my anguish – Julian had certainly seen me in much worse states than this – but still I tried. “Well, this is unpleasant.”

He snorted. “A bit more than unpleasant, Elim. This is the worst one you’ve had in a while.”

“Likely from working on all the damn transmissions.” I couldn’t even open my eyes now, despite the low lighting. 

“Yeah, I know it’s been hard on you.” He slipped his hand under my head, turning my face away from the pillow. Feather-light kisses dried my tears, soothing me in the process. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Elim.”

I attempted to smile, touched by his consistent tenderness and compassion. “It’s much appreciated.”

“Can I do anything to help?” He ran another light caress down the side of my face, then laid his hand on my shoulder. “Would you like to turn over?”

That did actually sound rather helpful. My entire left side had long since fallen asleep. “Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll need some assistance.”

“Yeah, that’s why I asked,” he needled. Keeping his movements careful, he helped me turn onto my back. Even that minimal motion worsened the discomfort again, and I gasped. “Easy, shh.”

He eased my head back to the pillow, and I tried to catch my breath. If only, my brain cried. If only you hadn’t been such a fool.

“Is that any better?” Julian asked, his voice soft. 

“A little.” I lifted my fingers just a tad, requesting contact. Attuned to the slightest cue, as always, he took hold of my hand again. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He began to run his hand across my forehead in a soothing, repetitive motion that warmed my ridges and chufa. “Would you like your medication?”

“Gracious, no.”

The doctor gave a soft sigh, continuing his tender motions. “I don’t like to see you in pain, Elim. Not when there’s something that will help.”

“But it doesn’t help, not really.” I took a shaky breath. “Yes, it eases the agony a bit, but at what cost? Would you prefer to watch me screaming in terror at the things that haunt my sleep?”

Julian’s hand paused, and I felt instantly ashamed of myself for lashing out at him. After a moment, the contact resumed. “No, not really. I just wish I could help, really help.”

“I know.” After a moment’s hesitation, I squeezed his hand. “My statement was rather uncalled for. I know you’re simply concerned.”

“It’s okay.” He bent, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to my chufa. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Rokassa juice?”

“I wouldn’t object to kanar,” I replied, hopeful. I knew he worried about my tendency to drown my misery – physical or otherwise – in drink, but I was getting desperate. 

A soft sigh, and then, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

If only the medication didn’t make me feel worse. If only he didn’t worry so much. 

Pain stabbed into my temple again and I pressed my fingers against the affected area, grimacing. What good did “if only” bring me? Regret tended to be one of my more common thought patterns, and one that never seemed to be particularly beneficial. I could lay here all day, analyzing my failures, thinking of how I’d gone wrong. 

And if I continued down this path, soon I’d end up regretting wasting my life on regret. 

Frustrated with myself, I gave a small sigh. Pain pounded all throughout my head again now, and I dropped my hand back to my side. It took entirely too much energy even to hold my head. 

“I’m back,” Julian said, taking a seat again and gripping my hand. I clutched it tighter on instinct, and he caressed my cheek. “Is it bad?”

“Mm.” I couldn’t manage more than that, in too much torment. 

“When it eases again, I’ll help you drink, okay?” He massaged my hand, and I could practically feel the worry emanating from him. “Then we can do anything you’d like. We can talk, we can watch something, we can cuddle. Whatever sounds okay.”

When the agony lessened, I cracked my eyes open, gazing up at my partner. He was giving me that soft, kind smile, but I could see that he was almost frantic with concern. “Don’t you need to go back to work, Julian?” I asked, my voice coming out thin and strained. 

He shook his head, picking up my drink from the bedside table. “No, not really. I have a patient here who needs my personal attention.”

“I’m honored.” I struggled to hide my pain as he raised my head and helped me to drink. It seemed wrong to burden him further. 

I definitely wasn’t fooling him. He laid me back again, and his brows drew together in a look of great worry. “Elim,” he murmured, rubbing my arm. 

“I’ll be fine, my dear Doctor.”

He gave a slight, disbelieving chuckle and shook his head. “You know you don’t need to hide this sort of thing from me, right? I’m your doctor. I’m your partner. When you’re in pain, you don’t need to smile and try to pretend that everything’s fine. I know better.”

A genuine smile curved my lips. “Old habits, I suppose.”

Julian rolled his eyes but didn’t press me further. “So, what would you like to do?”

“I’m afraid I’m really not feeling up for very much. Or for making decisions.”

His expression brightened after a moment. “I’ve got an idea, actually. Can I move you a bit?”

“…I suppose?”

He moved to sit at the head of the bed, and then gently shifted me over so my head rested in his lap. “Is that all right, Garak?”

“Mm, quite. That feels lovely.” I relaxed as he laid a damp cloth across my eyes and began to stroke my hair. 

“Good.” And then, apparently having picked up his padd, he began to read to me. He’d selected a Cardassian novel, and I couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness. 

And as I rested, listening to the soft, mellifluous tones of my lover’s voice, some of my regret melted away. Yes, there were things in my past that I was ashamed of. And yes, being exiled and separated from my people was devastating. 

And yet… had I not lived that life, would I have ever met Julian? Would I have ever known this sort of genuine, tender love, the simple pleasure of my partner reading to me?

Cardassia for Julian Bashir. I’d once have scoffed at the idea that love was worth being exiled. After all, wasn’t sentiment a great weakness, and one to be fiercely avoided? One that had cost me dearly in the past?

And yet, resting with my beloved now, it seemed more than a fair trade.


End file.
